


Overwatch/Reader One-shots

by orphan_account



Category: overwatch
Genre: ALWAYS request a plot plz, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I can't do female on female smut sorry i don't know how, I'm always procrastinating, I'm not against it, I've never written smut before but I'll try if you ask, Im just not lesbian or bi and don't know what happens, One-Shot, One-Shots, Overwatch/Reader - Freeform, PS it takes so long for me to write one of these, Smut, Sorry if you wanted that, help me, i spent so much time writing in the relationships and characters omg, it's shameful, overwatch one-shots, overwatch x reader, requests are open, takes like a week for one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:16:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requests are open! Female-Reader one-shots</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hi! Thanks for clicking on this! I assume you would like me to write you a one-shot about an overwatch character. Well I'd be happy to help! Requests are open as of right now so once you've read the rules for the submissions, fill out the form by commenting on this and I will get right back to you! <3 :)

Rules for submission:  
1\. No OCs. This is a reader insert story. Please don't send me any OC sheets as I'll just ignore them.  
2\. Not willing to do mxm or male reader because I honestly have no clue how to since I am not a male myself. Anything else is welcome  
3\. Please don't request romance for non-human characters like Bastion or Winston. I don't feel like I wouldnt be able to write that. You're still able to request one-shots for them, just not romance please.  
4\. After I finish writing your request, please send me feedback! It's always great to improve and unfortunately, on my own I'm not able to do that. If you think I would be able to improve on how I write, don't be afraid to tell me!  
5\. Please don't rush me. This is a hobby, it's not something I do full time. Sometimes I wont update for days because I'm not feeling it or I don't have time. I'll always try to work quickly though xx  
6\. Don't submit more than one idea at a time. Again, I can't work extremely quickly so please wait until I have already completed your other request to do another one :)

Form:  
Plot - Please don't just tell me to write a one-shot for a character. Give me a plot! I'm not very creative in coming up with them. It can be anything really, but I'd prefer to keep it related to Overwatch, Talon, fights etc..  
Character: Any character from Overwatch.  
Reader: Will always be female. You can however control the age

P.O.V: This is optional, just thought it would be fun if you could decide. Either Third person (She, he, they) or second person (you). In other words, it's how the story will be written so I could do '[First name] walked down the road' or 'You walked down the road'. I won't do first person (I, me) because I feel like it doesn't suit Reader inserts. If you don't pick one (which you don't have to) I'll just do it in Third person by default.

P.S I also have these posted on Quotev (https://www.quotev.com/29811831) but I won't have smut on there.

Also, if you want to play Overwatch with me you can! My battle.net is Potato#13556 I'm lvl 120+


	2. Little Surprise [Reaper x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper has been gone on a mission for a while and he surprises reader.

[First name] sat at her small wooden desk, made of pine. Her uncomfortable chair, also wooden, made her back ache slightly, though she didn't feel the need to move or put a pillow on it. Papers, pencils and pens lay all over the desk, a closed black laptop at the end. Her sparkling [eye colour] eyes were on a small ball of black fluff with bright green eyes that could melt anyone like butter. The cat lay on the desk, biting at [First name]'s small hand which pat and played with it. The small kitten was the only thing keeping her happy at the moment. If the small animal wasn't there, [First name] might as well die of boredom and loneliness. 

It really wasn't her fault for being in such a depressive mood lately. Its just that, well, she hasn't seen him in a while. It's been a few weeks now that he's gone to another country, to do whatever his job had him do. It was irritating sometimes; the fact that she barely saw him nowadays. She really missed those times when they would just spend time together on the couch, watching horror movies. She enjoyed burying her head into his chest whenever something scary popped up. She liked it when his deep, smooth voice would whisper sweet nothings into her ear, telling her it would be alright and that it's simple just a movie. She felt protected in his arms and that's really all that mattered.

But he wasn't here now. He was out saving the world, or destroying it, whatever he did. He never really told her. It wasn't even that he didn't want to tell her what he did, it was just to keep her safe. If anyone one knew about her, they would use her against him, threatening to kill her. And besides, he didn't exactly want to tell her that his 'job' was taking out people who stood in their way. He didn't want her rejecting him or being scared. He would never hurt her. He wouldn't be able to. She was too gorgeous to hurt; he loved her too much. And he didn't even know why. Maybe it was her silky [hair colour] hair or her glassy [eye colour] eyes that could make a man fall to their knees. In his eyes, she was flawless, like an innocent butterfly. 

Meows broke [First name] out of her thought, looking at the tiny kitten who was snuggling into her arms, looking tired. It's been a long day for both of them, though the cat was asleep for most of it; [First name] was inside, watching TV and doing some laundry and vacuuming.

A tired, lopsided smile broke out on [First name]s plump, pink lips, seeing the kitten fast asleep, snuggled up to her arm. She got up from the chair careful not to make too much noise or movement in case she would wake up the sleeping animal. She quickly grabbed some bunny slippers she had next to her bed and escaped from the room, heading to the kitchen. 

She reached up, barely able to reach the handle of the cupboard above the sink and dishwasher. Her small hands were able to grab a plain glass cup, placing it down next to the fridge, onto the white marble counter. Grabbing a carton of orange juice, she poured it in her cup until it was half-full, returning the juice into the fridge and sipping the drink as she returned back to her room, the slippers protecting her feet from the cold, white tiles. 

As she entered the room, she noticed her kitten was gone from the desk and now on the bed, trying to catch a cat toy, waved around by a figure in all black, facing towards the large glass window which then led onto a small balcony. A small gasp left her lips which emit a smooth chuckle from the figure. [First name] quickly placed her glass of juice onto the desk, running forward, onto the bed and wrapping her arms around the figure's neck, hugging them from behind. "Gabe!" She breathed, surprised by the fact he was here, though extremely happy he was here.

The man continued to chuckle, pulling [First name]'s petite form his his lap, her back against his muscular chest, wrapping two arms around her waist tightly. [First name] let out a sigh of happiness, pushing herself into him more and wrapping her cold arms around his. "I missed you too," Gabriel said, smiling underneath his white mask. While the two sat on the bed, the small kitten sensed a lack of attention, huffing and walking out of the room. 

She was so happy he finally came back. After weeks of waiting, something like this is what she needed. A surprise. At the same time, she had her thoughts of doubt; what if he died? What if he left her to be with another girl? She never thought of herself as attractive, what would he even want with her? She knew those thoughts weren't true, but she couldn't help but think them. She really didn't mean to. 

[First name]'s breath suddenly started to become quick and hitch, her eyes turning glassy. With all these emotions she was feeling, she couldn't keep it in and let the tears roll down her soft cheeks which have started to redden. She didn't even mean to start crying, especially not in front of Gabriel. Even Reaper could sense there was something wrong, "What's wrong, baby?" He asked softly, feeling her squirm around in his arms. 

It surprised the man when [First name] quickly turned around in his lap, straddling him and burying her head in his neck. A watery substance soaked through the black material. His smile fell. What even happened to her? She was so happy to see him and now she's crying? "[First name], whats wrong?" He asked, carefully rubbing circle on her back in hopes to calm her. 

"I thought you wouldn't come back," The girl hiccuped, tightening her arms around his torso. At this, Gabriel started to smirk, taking his owl mask off and placing it onto the bed while peeling [First name] off him, cupping his large hands around her face and using his thumb to wipe away some of the tears. "What made you think that, huh?" He rhetorically asked, dropping his arms to [First name]'s waist. "Of course I'm always going to come back to you," He continued, moving his face closer to [First name]'s, careful not to frighten her. 

[First name] could feel her heart beating out of her chest, thinking about how stupid she was to just randomly start crying. She was supposed to be happy now. I mean, he was here. What more could she want? Her breath hitched as she felt his hot breath fan her face, knowing what was about to happen. It definitely wasn't the first time he had kissed her, yet every time he did, butterflies swarmed her stomach, her face going beet red. "But-" She started, only to be stopped when rough lips crashed onto hers. 

She melted into the kiss, relaxing and wrapping her arms around his neck while she continued to straddle his lap. His hand came up to her hair, playing with it while he slipped a tongue into [First name]'s mouth, exploring every inch. 

It was late night surprises like this, that she liked the best.


	3. No Shame [Soldier: 76 x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader works at a stripclub and Jack is a mysterious viewer.

She had no shame. She really didn't. She didn't care about the way she made a living. She just did. Was that so hard to understand? She knew some people viewed her in disgust once they found out what her occupation was. It was nothing to be proud of, but nothing to be ashamed of either. We all had to make a living somehow, whether that be as a chef, a gardener, a waiter or even something so 'shameful' as a stripper; an adult entertainer. She didn't mind, in fact, some days, she'd even go as far as to say she enjoyed it. 

It was nice, you know? Sliding up and down that pole. It was nice to have money thrown at you, the cheers coming from the thick crowd. It was nice the see people encouraging you and socialising with you, even if they would only talk dirty to you. It was nice to have friends doing the same as you, even working with you. It meant for less lonely days. Besides, they understood. They didn't judge, and there was no need to. They were all in the same business. No shame in there. 

However, time and time again, [First name] found herself eyeing a certain man. He came in once a week, on a late Thursday. He wore always the same outfit, a blue, white and red jacket which was glued to his muscular frame, baggy military pants, boots and a mask. [First name] found the mask quiet strange. Why did he feel the need to wear it? Perhaps there was something wrong with his face he didn't want people seeing or maybe he was a wanted criminal on the run. Though option b is unlikely, it is still very much possible. Though the man wore a mask, you could still see the soft tufts of white hair on his head. It wasn't even salt and pepper, it was pure white, giving off a sign that he's much older than [First name] who was in her early 20's.

He never said anything, just sat down and watched for the hour [First name] preformed with no break. After [First name] went on her 10 minute break, he would mysteriously disappear without a trace. During his time there, he would occasionally leave a dollar bill or two, pushing it once when he left a 50 dollar bill for her. [First name] could only watch with her mouth hanging open, thanking him vigorously and then continuing her performance. She even swore to see his eyes smile, indicating that he was smirking under his mask. It was a strange sight, he just sat there normally; and he'd been doing this for weeks now. The stripper didn't mind though, it was a nice change to have someone calm watching her; normally it was half-drunk men, stinking of alcohol and cigarettes. 

 

It was another typical Thursday night for [First name]. She sat in the changing room in front of the mirror, various bits of makeup scattered on the counter in front of her. Her glassy eyes were drawn to her slim image in the mirror. Tonight she was wearing something that covered up a bit more; surely going to disappoint some of her viewers. A black corset with white lace hugged her torso, making sure to show off some cleavage. Her thin thighs were wrapped with a warm, white thigh-high sock. But she liked things that covered up more. That way, you weren't able to see her scars all over her body which she thought of as ugly. She was even surprised at the fact she had so many regulars watching her. Did they not see the marks on her skin which would never go away? It was strange how it bothered her so much but not them.

The small digital clock was what caught the girl's attention next. It was simple and grey, displaying on the time with a small pen holder on the side, full of scrap papers thrown in there and a few pens and pencils. The time which the small device displayed was enough to cause goosebumps appear all over [First name]'s skin. She had only 2 more minutes before the clock would strike 9pm and she would have to go out and perform. 

She was looking forward to it. He would be there. He always is. It was just simply hard to explain. [First name] felt an attraction to him. Maybe it was the fact he was so mysterious? It's proven to attract girls. Yeah it had to be that. What else? [First name] for sure did not believe in love-at-first-sight. It was definitely not that. He was just calming, smooth and most importantly, was a regular viewer. He didn't yell sexual phrases at [First name] nor did he frantically wave at her, trying to get her to sit in his lap.

A girl, thin and tall with fiery orange hair, which happened to be her natural hair colour, surprisingly, entered the room. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead though she wiped those away. A sigh escaped her nude lips, walking over to [First name] in the white fake-leather chair and gently placing her small hand on her exposed shoulder. The sudden touch didn't frighten [First name], she saw her friend coming due to the mirror.

"It's time to go," The girl with the red hair whispered to her friend, smiling down at her. [First name] simply let out a grunt of annoyance. She just wasn't feeling it today, for whatever reason. She's been lazy all day, from forgetting to take out the trash to not even making her bed which she has a habit of doing so it was unusual. It was very much like a normal person with a 'normal' job not wanting to go to work, except this time it may have been a little different. "Come on, [First name]. Just get out there and give them a good time. You'll see. It will get better as you go on,"

[First name] stood up, careful not to slip on the tiled floor in her wool socks. She gave her friend a weak pat on the back while mumbling a quiet 'Good job," as she headed outside the door and onto the stage. Before she could leave the room, however, her friend let out a few words which got her anxiety levels to go just a bit higher. "Besides, he'll probably be there, like always," She said, aiming at the man with the mask who comes ever Thursday night to watch [First name]. 

She was right though. He probably will be there.

 

But he wasn't. At first the stripper thought he was just running late. It happened a few times before, but never this long. He should have been there. Why was he so important though? [First name] performed completely fine before he even started coming to this place. Maybe it was the habit of usually seeing him here, the fact he calmed her down and gave her a bit of confidence? Yeah that. 

She waited, the seconds seeming like minutes and the minutes seeming like hours. The session lasted a lot longer since she was not enjoying it as much as she usually would. Sure, she got dozens of bills thrown at her, the cheering and wooing blasting in her ears like a loud speaker, but, it just wasn't fun. Even some of the crowd noticed, asking the girl is she was alright in a teasing manner, telling her to smile. The usual cat calls when a girl doesn't seem chipper and happy. 

 

When the night ended she was more glad than ever. The feeling of walking off the stage and hearing the narrator saying "And that was [First name]," was music to her ears, like a melody which she desperately craved more of. 

She strutted into the change rooms, immediately starting to strip from her clothes, not caring about the fact that there were more than a few woman in there who were seeing her naked body. She knew them, they were all friends, she was pretty much naked in her outfits already; no need to hide anything. Her corset was carelessly thrown into [First name]'s dirty laundry basket, something the staff provided each performer with for convenience. She pulled off the socks, throwing those in the basket too.

One of her friends, black hair and all, looked at her with worry. She bit her lip anxiously. Was she alright? The guests didn't harm her did they? "Are you alright, [First name]?" She asked. Now most of the girl's attention were turned to [First name], watching with curiosity. They hoped that she was fine. They didn't want to lose a friend; a good one at that.

[First name]'s attention was snapped to Chloe, the girl which asked the question. Her eyebrows furrowed at the fact that most people in here were anxiously starring at her. "I'm fine, just a little tired, that's all," She explained with a smile. She did seem tired; they had to give it to her. She had bags and dark-circles placed under her eyes and the [eye colour] orbs seemed very cloudy, not to mention the fact she was stumbling a little while she came into the room.

Chloe simply nodded at her, though her worries didn't die down completely, she let it be.

 

After changing into a pink wool top with sleeves that ended just above her elbows, a black, high-waisted skater shirt and black flats, she left the strip club, going out the back door to the parking lot. It was well past midnight, and so the air had cooled down a lot, causing several shivers to run down [First name]'s spine. The back door led to a semi decent, narrow path lined with bricks on either side, a dumpster on the left. The pathway wasn't too long until you would reach the car park, however on a cold night like this, paranoia filled [First name] to the brim. What if she was attacked while on the way to her car? No that's way beyond silly and would never happen. It's too unlikely. Besides, there's still a few people inside the building. If she screamed they would surely hear.

Even with those reassuring thoughts, panic took over when she saw the eerie shadow of a man from the corner of her eye and the sound of loud footsteps coming closer. A small squeak escaped her lips as she picked up her pace. She kept repeating she would make it home safely in her head. Yeah, she would. There was no way she wouldn't. She could even see her small Mini Cooper car in the distance, not very far away.

Her shaky hands fiddled with the small black bag she carried on her shoulder, digging deep to try and find the pink keys to her hovering vehicle. She felt watched and thus nervous. It was just like in the movies; someone followed, kidnapped, tortured, escape possibly but more likely death. It was frightening. 

 

A man who goes by the name of Soldier: 76 watched the girl pick up her pace, hurrying to her car. Maybe she noticed him, her shaky hands sure did giveaway she was at the very least: nervous. He didn't mean to scare her, though many would find his starring or as some would call it: 'stalking'; quiet creepy, he didn't see any issue with it. He wasn't harming her, was he? He didn't have any bad intentions, he just wanted to know. He wanted to know where she got those scars.

Maybe one day; but not today.


	4. I've Got You In My Sight [Widowmaker x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Widowmaker saves Reader from a group of criminals. Reader welcomes her with open arms in the end.

One-Shot for historicallyinaccurate (This is way longer than I thought it would be and I wrote it all on a phone since I didn't have my laptop with me. Sorry for taking so long) 

Rain poured from the sky, wind adding to it. The small droplets formed large puddles, the wind blowing around stray leaves which have long fallen from trees. A woman, hair tied into a high ponytail, glaring [eye colour] eyes glued onto the pathway while her heels clicked away. Her arms were crossed indicating she was either in a bad mood or cold; the latter being more likely as once night hit, the air in New York would cool down to extreme temperatures, especially since winter hit. 

Why was she walking alone on the empty streets at night? Most people would have enough common sense not to do that, especially if you are a woman, lacking weapons or any form of protection. Abduction was common and so was kidnapping. Either one was likely. Yet she didn't care. If this meant going home, taking a warm shower and laying in her soft, comfortable bed; then it would all be worth it. Besides, it wasn't exactly her fault. Her car was at an auto repair shop and she had left her phone at home. The phone at work happened to be broken. This is the series of unfortunate evens which led her to walk home in nothing but a pencil skirt, a white blouse and black heels in the rain on a cold night. She didn't even have a cardigan at the very least.

She was fortunate in a way that the walk to her apartment was not extremely long; a mere 30 minutes. Yet looking at her circumstances, it seemed like forever. Every step she took seemed to be in slow motion. Today just wasn't her day. 

The girl noticed a small light coming up from ahead, on the left which lead into a short alleyway with a waste bin. It might have been someone's home, but there were no apartments or any street lights. It was sort of strange, and with the [First name] approaching the light, it was getting strange yet she was getting curious. It might just be something boring, like a light from a lost lamp which was left on but it could be something else. 

In front of the alleyway, [First name] looked down, stopping to get a closer inspection of it. It wasn't exactly time wasting; it would only take around two seconds at the most and then she would be able to leave it be and continue walking home. What [First name] saw was rather unexpected, maybe even frightening. It was unusual in a city like New York though some might argue it was common in the dead of night. 

A group of men, all wearing baggy clothing, some smoking cigars while others just starred into thin air. They were all crowding a large metal can (the ones used to transport oil). The lid was presumedly gone, a small fire on the top of it which was creating the blarring light. 

The sound of [First name]'s heels seemed to have caught their attention as she stopped, their head snapping towards her. The girl immediately froze, her eyes widening by inches. A string of curse words left her lips, barely audible. Her hands flew down to her skirt, fiddling with the ends while she spun to the right, continuing her journey like she hadn't even stopped. 

 

[First name] didn't get far, a few steps, before she heard loud steps that didn't belong to her quickly stomp towards her. A small gasp left her lips in surprise. It wasn't them? The guys surrounding the fire, was it? Why would they even come after her? She tried to walk faster, as fast as her heels allowed her to which wasn't very quick. At this rate, whoever it was would surely catch up to her.

Before she could take another step, a large hand clamped over her mouth silencing her from screaming. An arm snaked over her waste, it was skinny and bony. She felt a short beard brush against her neck, hearing loud breathing in her ear. On instinct, her hands reached to the arm around her waist, desperately trying to pry it off, same with the hand clamped onto her mouth. Yet the man who held her was strong enough to keep their hands on her. Tears threatened to spill, already piling up in her doe eyes. Her breathing became uneven and its rhythm was lost. This couldn't be it, she was still so young, still exploring the real world. She had so much to live for. She had friends, a loving family. This couldn't end now. 

No matter how hard she tried to squirm, the man held her in his grip extremely forcefully; she could even feel her waist starting to bruise from the impact. He had now started to drag her back to the alleyway, the entrance not even a meter away. Her heels scraped on the concrete ground, damaging the reflective latex.

Her crys were muffled, not even slightly audible. No one would be able to hear here, to come rescue her. One of her shoes even slipped off her foot, being left on the sidewalk. She watched as she got further away from the black high heel, turning to enter the alleyway. She thought back on her life, all the happy memories and even the bad ones. She would die, knowing that she never had a loving husband to come home to everyday, to accomplish at the least, something very small. She still wanted to do so many things; things that would never happen. Just the thought of what those people would do to her made her sick. 

She wasn't focusing on what was going on around her. She looked around for a mere second to see that she was being held by the same man, now at the fire, surrounded by the other men. She could hear them talking in the background, though her thoughts were the loudest thing she could hear. The only thing she bothered to listen to where words which sent a shiver down her spine, "Good catch. A gorgeous catch indeed," said a male's voice. It was deep and scratchy, not in the appealing kind of way. 

Her tears had stopped flowing now, her struggling gone as quick as it came. There was no use. The thought that she would die soon simply turned the poor girl into an emotionless, empty shell. Her mind had gone blank, so blank that when she heard a sharp bullet wiz past her, she barely noticed. The only thing which did catch her attention was when she felt a warm, sticky liquid on the left side of her face. Her body was let loose by the man who had now fallen to the rough, unforgiving ground. She almost fell herself, used to her body being supported over the short time it was.

One of the other men in the group rushed over to [First name] to keep her in place so she wouldn't run away. Before he could reach her, a bullet flew right in between his eyes. A perfect shot. The other men's eyes widened, afraid for their own lives. Some of them were already panicking when the first one got shot but held it in. Where were these coming from? Whoever was shooting had distance; and skill. 

Another one fell dead, shot in the head. Droplets of blood splattered onto the brick wall and the others, starring at it in disgust. "We need to take cover!" One of them shouted, motioning his hands further into the alleyway where a fence was blocking their path.

[First name] was still in shock from the men being dropped dead and so she started to curl herself to the wall, pressing her back firmly to it in hopes her brains wouldn't be blown out. The cold bricks were sending chills down her spine, making goosebumps form on her soft skin; but it was better than nothing. It was a gory scene around her; the three men where lying on the ground, on their side, on their stomach. The only sign of death by gun was the blood and the hole it created in their skull. Blood oozed from it, flowing down their cheeks, nose. 

A man, with scruffy blonde hair and blue eyes ran up to [First name] tugging on the sleeve of her blouse. Her breath hitched, scared once again. He held her to his chest, arm wrapped around her waist like the other man did. [First name] could feel him place something cold next to her forehead. Her initial thought was a gun, and right she was. "Whoever it is, if you shoot someone else I will blow her brains out!" His voice echoed around, loud and trembling. The mention of dying brought tears to the girl's eyes yet again. 

But once more, she heard a bullet wiz past her and the man dropped dead. His arm left her waist, the gun which was once held firmly against her forehead was now on the ground; it fell with a loud sound of metal clashing against concrete. This time the remaining 4 other men fell down too, only a few seconds apart from each other. They were all dead, bits of blood coating the concrete around her. If anyone stumbled upon this scene, they would automatically assume it was her that killed them, but she hasn't.

Whoever was killing these people, they must have had years of practice. It was a matter of time until she was going to die soon, just like the others. "Just do it! Kill me!" She screamed desperately, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling on it in frustration. She had the option to run, of course, but she knew that if she just tried to step out of the area, she would die in an instant; or so she thought. 

Slow chuckling caught [First name]'s attention. It wasn't deep or masculine. It was rather smooth and feminine, something unexpected. Fabric rubbing against a rope got closer until she heard the sound of heels hitting the ground. "It's alright, chéri," At the sound of the woman's heavily accented voice, [First name] peeled her eyes open. She saw a slim woman, her skin was an icy blue, her hair down to her thighs in a ponytail and her eyes yellow as a tiger's. She firmly gripped into a complicated looking black, auto-matic rifle with a thick leather glove that connected to her purple latex suit with a slit down the middle, showing off her cleavage. She looked like something out of a movie, a very well made movie. 

"Who a-are you?" [First name] stuttered, reaching up to scratch her wet, puffy cheeks. "None of your concern, chéri," She reached down, picking up what appeared to be a giant, mechanic spider, it's body a tube with purple liquid flowing around in it. [First name] hadn't even noticed it sitting on the ground, maybe because the fire had now calmed down, the lighting turning dim and mysterious. Whatever it was, it seemed dangerous. "Consider yourself saved. Don't go around at night; it's not safe," She continued, finishing her sentence. 

Before [First name] had a chance to respond, a grappling hook shot out of an attached piece from her wrist, gripping onto the top of the building which was several stories high. The woman was pulled up, almost appearing to be flying. The girl at the bottom was left baffled by what was going on. Whoever that woman was, she owed her her life. 

-

It had been weeks after that incident. Weeks after [First name] almost died, leaving nothing but her mortal body on this Earth. She continued on living as normal, as if nothing had happened but she couldn't lie; she still thought about it everyday. The way that she was suddenly grabbed, pulled aside into the alleyway, the way she felt blood splater onto her cheeks, the way the woman appeared out of nowhere and saved her. It was a strange situation, but glad she survived. And it was all thanks to her; the mysterious blue woman.

But that's all she knew about her. She was a mysterious, blue woman and [First name] was dying to know more. Just who was she? Why did she even save her? They were complete strangers, not even acquaintances.

However, what was strange was that no matter where she went, [First name] continuously saw that woman. She started to think she was going insane, her brain putting images of the lady in front of her, behind signs, casually grabbing lunch. If she was at work, [First name] would even see her walk past the entrance to the building, wearing casual clothing and walking a small poodle. It was weird, but after a while she started to think she wasn't going crazy; the woman was just following her around. She would have called the police if it was anyone else, they would be charged with stalking. But it was the blue woman and [First name] wasn't scared of her. 

And so screaming coming from the TV broke [First name] out of her thoughts, her attention turning back to the large screen, grabbing another handful of popcorn and shoving it in her mouth. A pink, wooden blanket lay over her petite form, protecting her from the cool air. She continued watching the TV, enjoying her time relaxing. Yet when it started to rain, [First name] remembered she had left the door of her balcony open. The rain must have already soaked her carpet. 

She quickly pushed the soft blanket off her form, placing the bowl of popcorn onto the dark brown coffee table in between the couch and TV. Grabbing another handful of popcorn before leaving, she rushed into her room at a jogging pace, quick to arrive so no more damage would be caused to her carpet. She didn't even own the place, it was an apartment she was renting for a while so any damage caused would have to be fixed from the money from her pockets, not the owner's. 

Her fragile hands pushed the wooden door to her room open, walking in only to stare at her balcony wide-eyed. The woman from before, wearing the same outfit as that night stood on the balcony, droplets of rain falling into her figure. She started off into the distance, admiring the city. 

[First name] carefully walked over to the balcony, feeling the squishy, wet carpet beneath her feet. She was about to open her mouth to speak when she noticed the woman moving forward, about to climb off and disappear once again. She must have noticed her coming towards and wanted to leave before any interaction could occur. "Wait!" [First name] pleaded, running out onto the small balcony herself, not minding the rain failing onto her. It was rather cold and unforgiving, but it would only be for a little while. She'd be able to survive. 

Her hopeful eyes starred as the blue woman stopped, looking down at the ground, her head tilted on an angle. "What is it, chéri?" She asked, hesitant to leave, her body frozen from surprise. And there was that word again, 'chéri' was it? After arriving home that eventful night, [First name] looked up the meaning of it. She knew it was French; she studied it in her highschool years, but wasn't sure of the exact meaning. Turns out it meant dear, the word used as a word of endearment. 

"Please don't go! Not yet, I just wanted to talk to you," [First name] admitted, shyness evident in her voice. She hoped she would stay, even for just a few minutes. She had so many questions. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why was her skin so blue? Why did she save her? She needed to know, it's been on her mind for what seemed like forever. Another chance like this may not occur. 

Her eyes lit up when she heard the reply, "For just a few minutes," The woman replied coldy, yet if you listened hard enough, you could pick up a small hint of care. It wasn't noticable, but [First name] noticed it. A smile spread across her face, lighting up her features. She ran forward, almost slipping in the tile and water combination, but not caring. Her arms tightly wrapped around the woman, hugging her. 

 

It was unexpected. Widowmaker simply watched as the girl she was guarding ran up to her, her small arms wrapping around her. She became stiff, long forgotten what human contact felt like. After her husband died and Talon took her, her emotions, desires, dreams vanished with her heartbeat. No one had showed affection to her in a long time. After a few seconds of getting used to the hug, her thin arms hesitantly wrapped around the smaller girl's frame. It was strange; she felt like she could easily break her but she knew that was not the case. "Thank you," she heard the soft voice of [First name]. Amélie would never admit it, but as those words a small smile broke out on her face. 

'Human emotions are strange, why does this girl make me feel so happy?'


	5. Thiefborn [Mccree x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is stuck in a grocery store which is being robbed. Mccree saves her and carries her home, flirting.

One-shot for Lilly (I've been playing too much Overwatch to actually write one-shots lmao. Sorry for taking long. I hope that kiss at the end was enough. I don' think a whole makeout would have been suitable for this.)

Her breathing was uneven, harsh and slow, all at the same time. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She closed her eyes tightly, clutching her hands to her chest. She wanted to run, scream for help, anything that could possibly save her life. But she knew, if she made herself the slightest visible, they'd shoot her down right away. In fact, they were looking for her now. She didn't even mean to get into a situation like this; trapped inside a grocery store, hiding from a bunch of outlaws who were looking for her. Looking to kill her. They didn't want any witnesses, survivors.

And so her large, soft [eye colour] eyes stared onto the ground, hoping and praying that the police would arrive soon. She only even came here to pick up some milk, but an ordinary trip to an ordinary store turned into a disaster. She was about to go to the counter to pay, but stopped after hearing gun shots. She heard the yelp of the store manager, an old man who she often made small talk with. He was now on the ground, dead, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. When he fell to the ground, [First name] screamed, which in the long run, would be a horrible idea. After that scream she heard the thieves communicate with each other, "Go find her," One of them said.

In a state of panic, she hid behind a crate of watermelons. It was conveniently placed at a corner, allowing [First name] to shield herself with it more. It was at the back of the store while the outlaws were at the front. They had a considerable space between them, but [First name] knew that it would only be a matter of time before they find her. They would find her and shoot her. Unless the police arrived quickly, there would be no chance she would stay alive. 

And to think all of this had come out of running to the store for milk. It began as such a normal day. Why did it have to boil down to this? 

"Where is she?!" One of the outlaws shouted, not too far from the girl they were looking for. "She has to be in here! We can't leave her," Another one said. They were all male, rough and unforgiving. Listening to it was like nails on a chalkboard. It hurt. It's not like [First name] saw their faces, what they looked like; yet they were making such a big deal of this, like it depended on their life to find her. It was so, so stupid. They just wouldn't give up. 

It had been a minute or two and at this point they were knocking cans off shelves, turning everything in the small store upside down. It scared [First name] to no end, she might as well surrender now, there really was no point in staying hidden. At this rate, they would find her anyway. This was like a twisted, horrible version of hide and seek. She could even see one of their feet from under the crate, their light leather boots expensive. They were nearing her. To silence her breathing, [First name] cupped one of her hands over her mouth, hoping they wouldn't be able to hear the panicked breaths. 

But it didn't matter if they could, because their attention was drawn to something else. It was a man, entering the store slowly. He held a gun in his right hand, looking down at it, cleaning it with his hands. 

[First name] watched as the feet of the outlaw retreated, going far away from her; hopefully. "What yer be doin', lads?" [First name] heard a an's voice, smooth as silk though it definitely wasn't one of the outlaws. It was heavily accented; a southern one. It was strange; she had never heard one before. She didn't live in the city, but not in the country either, just a small suburb that happened to be maybe slightly closer to the countryside. 

"None of your concern. Run along!" One of the outlaws shouted, pointing a gun at the man. [First name] couldn't exactly see what was going on, but she could definitely hear. Was it a policeman? She hoped. She had been squatting behind that watermelon crate for a while now, her back and legs starting to ache. She couldn't leave it though, not yet. Not until she knew it was definitely safe to get out. Once she did get out (if she did), she would go home, take a nice, long shower and then lay in bed, thinking about her life. She was looking forward to it, to get all of the dust off her body which she has wiped off from the corner. 

"I tried being reasonable, but you didn't take to it," The mysterious man said once again. "I'm the quick, you're the dead," He smirked, raising his gun, aiming it at one of the outlaw's head and shooting. He did the same with all of the other three outlaws, being quick to dodge any bullets which went flying his way. One of the bullets flew straight past his head, missing by millimetres. Needless to say, he was extremely lucky.

Mccree, the man which shot the outlaws, walked over to the front desk, inhaling the scent of blood and rot. His nose scrunched up at the unpleasant scent, his eyes squinting but widening after seeing the body of a man, laying on the ground behind the cash register, in a pool of his own blood. The dead man had clearly suffered multiple bullet wounds to his chest, stomach and head. He was elderly too, as seen by his grey hair and wrinkles all over his body. A small sigh escaped Jesse's lips, sad that the man had to pass in such a brutal way. 

He stepped over the body, careful to not get any blood on his expensive shoes. It was a bit selfish to think about not ruining his shoes, but Jesse couldn't help it.

"Hello!" Jesse shouted, hoping to lure out anyone who had still remaining inside the shop. If there was anyone, they would most likely be dead.

However, that was not the case because just a few meters away, [First Name] sat behind the watermelons crate, her ears perking up  
at the voice of the man from before. After hearing gunshots, [First name] thought it might have been a good idea to run, not knowing who the new man was or what he wanted. If she ran, there was a possibility she could have escaped while everyone else was distracted. But she didn't go. She didn't want to risk it. Besides, police would be here soon; right? While hiding in that position was uncomfortable, she would much rather be uncomfortable than dead. 

She he heard the man call again, this time he asked if anyone else was in the store. [First name] felt like popping out, trying to sneak out the store without being noticed. That, or either submitting herself to the man in hopes he would not harm and only help. She wasn't exactly sure what he would do. She wasn't even sure what happened after the gunshots. Did the man kill those outlaws? Was he a police officer? Maybe. Let's hope. 

After being at war with herself for a few seconds, [First name] pushed away the crate quietly, crawling out from the corner as quickly as she could without making any sound. If he indeed was a ruthless murderer, she didn't want him knowing she was here. Not even bothering to push back the crate in it's place, she made a run for it, jogging through the isles quietly. 

At one point, not far away from the entrance, she swore she heard heavy breathing behind her, and thus turned her head back, checking for anyone. Her panic was completely gone once she saw no one but cans of food on the floor and fruit which have rolled off their shelves. As soon as she had turned her head back, her body ran into a hard metal plate. "An omnic?!" [First name] breathed, falling to the ground from the impact, using her hands to break her fall. 

She heard chuckling, a deep, smooth voice. "Not an omnic, darlin'," It was the man who was wandering around the store. His voice really was southern. It was so thick. It was relaxing too, sending a small shiver up [First name]'s spine, making goosebumps form on her skin. He sounded so attractive; she craved for more. Of course, he could have been a killer who was about to viciously murder her, but his voice itself was murderous. 

Rolling her head around, [First name] gazed up at the man in front of her, standing and much taller than her. He wore a cowboy hat; how typical. His beard was short, scruffy and it suited him. His eyes were a deep brown, his chocolatey brown hair semi-long. It reached just above the nape of his neck. His attire consisted of boots, slightly loose light brown jeans with protection pads strapped to his legs. A BAMF belt sat on his waist, a big, red poncho around his neck and a armour plate on his torso. So that's why his torso was so hard when she ran into him. 

"Don't hurt me please" [First name] gulped, using her small hands to quickly slide her way backwards on the ground, seeing the attractive man approach her with a smirk on his lips. The girl's back hit some boxes, unable to go any further. She watched him approach, her heart beating like a drum, her eyes widening. He didn't look like he wanted to kill her, but you can never judge a book by it's cover. He may just suddenly pull out a gun and blow her brains out. 

Instead of ended her life ,however, [First name] felt him place his pointer finger under her chin, lifting her head up to face his grin. "Now, sweetheart, why would I hurt such a pretty lady like yourself?" He asked, smirking more, beginning to flirt a bit. It wasn't everyday that he saw a pretty lady, in fact, most days the only people he would see were outlaws, bushrangers. This was a rare occasion. Might as well. 

[First name] simply shrugged, looking at the floor in confusion.She felt the fingers leave her chin, seeing the man kneel down next to her in her peripheral vision. One of his arms rested on his knee while the other one dangled on the ground, hesitant to touch the girl. "Now tell me, why were you in the middle of a robbery?" The man asked in a way that he was definitely waiting for an answer.

[First name] began telling him how she had run out of milk and needed more. She told him that this was her local grocery store and wanted to quickly run down her then scramble back to her home. But then she heard shouting, and so she hid behind the watermelon crate in order to protect herself. It was, of course, a very believable story.

While giving out information, [First name] also demanded some. She had learnt the man's name was Jesse, Jesse Mcree. She learnt that he just simply wanted to quickly grab a snack, but saw the outlaws and immidiately got rid of them, then scanned the place for survivors. That's when [First name] bumped into him. There were some things he didn't answer though. He didn't say why he had a gun with him, why he had a robotic arm or why he was wearing so much armour, like he was an outlaw himself but unlikely; he saved her. He killed people that would be of his kind. It wouldn't make sense for him to be something so disgusting. 

Along the conversation he offered to walk [First name] home. She hesitantly accepted but eased into the offer soon enough. What bad could come of it? He seemed pretty trustworthy so far. He'd saved her too. The least she could do was accept and enjoy his company along the way. It wasn't a long walk though, maybe 10 minutes to her apartment. It was going to be fine. 

The journey was a bit awkward, some small talk here and there but not too much, and even the small talk that happened was Mccree flirting with [First name]. It was so cheesy. He'd come up with the most cringey, over-used pick-up-lines. But somehow, [First name] liked them. It was fine as long as they came out of his mouth. Why was he even getting special privileges? 

So caught up in her thought [First name] didn't noticed a rock under her foot. She dragged her shoe across it and onto the floor, the unbalance of weight causing her body to go hay-wire and fall onto the concrete ground, but not before being held steady and up-right. [First name] looked at her saviour, Mccree, who had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Oh? Princess is clumsy, eh? I think I can fix that," He smirked, reaching under the girl's knees and picking her up bridal-style. 

[First name] giggled, surprised by the sudden, unexpected move Jesse made. She didn't mind, though. At least now she wouldn't have to waste her energy walking and instead could comfortably lay in the man's arms, being carried like a little girl, begging for a piggy-back ride. It was fun though. Now, Mccree seemed a bit more talkative? It seemed so. His pick-up lines have even gotten a bit worse, saying them more often though. 

It was fun to shut him down. He would just laugh it off and try again. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after-all. Especially if Jesse decides to stick around; she would've gotten a new, good friend out of it. That would've definitely been worth it. 

The fact the two had been enjoying each other's company so much, time went quicker than ever, the 10 minutes feeling as if it were just one. They had even arrived at [First name]'s apartment door, at the end of a hallway in a big, white building. 

Mccree placed down [First name] gently, careful to not drop or harm her while doing it. He watched, smiling slightly as [First name] fished a pair of keys out of her pockets, digging it into the door lock. Though she unlocked the door, [First name] didn't open it, turning around to face the smiling man in-front of her. [First name] returned the smile, wrapping her arms around the man in an instant. She smiled, inhaling his sweet scent. She felt two muscular arms wrap around her waist, not leaving once she pulled away from the hug. 

She looked up at him with hopeful, twinkling eyes, pointing her feet so she could reach up, cupping her warm hand on his cheek, she pecked his lips lightly, thanking him for saving her and walking her home. Maybe she would see him again. She sure hoped so. 

Mccree captured her in one last hug, his muscular arms tight around her waist. "I sure hope so, darlin'," He murmured, smiling sadly into her hair.


	6. Longing For a Nuclear War [Roadhog x Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat is annoying the Reader on the way to their mission so Roadhog steps in and saves her

One-shot for CoolJolly (She didn't request any specific plot so I hope it's alright)

[First name] placed a thumb on her lip, dragging it down. She starred at the papers in her hand, eyeing, absorbing all the information on it. I hadn't been even a day since her last mission, yet still, here she was, starring at a piece of paper full of all her next mission's details. It included everything from location, flight, weapons, enemies to even the amount of time going to be spent there. She would have, in fact, been fine with it all if her mission partners were not the two junkers: Junkrat and Roadhog. While she didn't mind Roadhog, she certainly didn't like Junkrat. He just wouldn't shut up. But she hoped that maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different. 

 

But it wasn't. With his arms loosely around her shoulders, Junkrat gave her a shit-eatting grin, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. [First name] was tense, though she was sitting on a comfortable leather couch, a glass of wine and small chocolates by her side. She gave the Junker an awkward smile, trying to unnoticeable move away from him. He didn't noticed, chewing on the piece of peppermint candy he had. He seemed to happy, so oblivious to the fact he was starting to extremely annoy the poor girl. 

"And that's how I blew up my neighbours house!" He finished, grabbing another piece of candy and shoving it into his mouth. [First name] starred at him in disgust, just how many candies is he able to stuff into his abnormally large mouth? It was outrages. That might have been his 9th candy in short time of two minutes. "Aha," [First name] mumbled, reaching for her wine glass. She took small sips of it, trying to seem normal. She couldn't just tell Junkrat to piss off, no matter how much she hated his blabbering. It would be rude, in fact, he would probably just get all teary. 

"Oh hey, [First name]!" Junkrat managed to catch [First name]s attention once again, watching as she gave her a small smile, telling him to go on. "You wanna hear about the time I found this shiny rock?" He asked, his eyes glistening with hope. He was enjoying himself too much. 

Just before [First name] was about to nod, the private plane which the trio were flying in experienced some air turbulence, making it shake and rattle a little. On instinct, [First name] grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be Junkrat. She felt all the hidden bombs, on his back, his pockets; just about anywhere. She cursed under her breath for even touching him. She could have grabbed anything else, the couch, the coffee table; but it just had to be him.

"Woah there, Shiela, getting close to the rat?" He smirked, swinging his arms around [First name]'s small frame. The girl simply cringed, untying her arms from his body and gave a push in an effort to escape. "Not a chance," She spat, squirming around.

In just the right moment, Roadhog, Junkrat's bodyguard, came waltzing into the lounge area of the jet. He eyed, his friend and team mate on the couch, watching the girl struggle to get out of Junkrat's grasp. She even swore he could see her mouth a 'help me'. Of course, he knew that she wasn't in actual danger, he knew Junkrat would never hurt her, but he also knew she found the certain Junker annoying.

With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the couch, his eyes glaring at the fellow Junker. Junkrat seemed to notice this because he gave the larger man a goofy smile, greeting him with his usual "'elo, mate". Roadhog, however, wasn't in a mood to joke around right now, in fact, he was extremely tired. "Let her go, Jamison," He asked, his voice deep and gruff like usual. 

[First name]'s eyes lit up, feeling the arms around her loosen. A small, unnoticeable smile made it's way onto her plump lips. She quickly got up from the couch and wrapped her small arms around Roadhog as a way to say 'thank you'. Jamison sat on the couch, pouting. Roadhog just simply starred down at the girl, surprised by her actions. If he hadn't have come to save her, maybe [First name] would have strangled Junkrat. She sure was happy he did.


End file.
